


Licking Wounds

by QuillMind



Category: Berserk
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Violence, Casca is sane, Comfort Sex, Cowgirl Position, Face-Sitting, Multi, Oral Sex, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reader-Insert, Smut, Threesome - F/F/M, Undecided Relationship(s), Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 11:41:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11012712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuillMind/pseuds/QuillMind
Summary: You, Casca and Guts are all that remains of the Band of the Hawk, and the sole survivors of the Eclipse.  Maybe traveling together is not the smartest choice, as it might draw more monsters than usual to have three Branded people so close at any given time.  But you cannot help it.  It might be pathetic, but you need each other--in more ways than one.





	Licking Wounds

**Author's Note:**

> There is a serious shortage of Berserk reader inserts, you guys. That should change.

The sun had set minutes ago.  The sky still had some warm colours left to it, but they failed to move you. 

For others--for normal people, the night meant peacefulness.  Dinner with family, drinks with friends, relaxing by a fire and going to bed inside a warm room. 

Not for you, though.  Your nights are always sleepless. 

That in itself was not too bad.  You were used to getting only a few hours of rest from your days with the Band of the Hawk.  If there were missions that required the cover of darkness, or a lengthy and lively celebration was held for a job well done, sometimes you didn't awake until the sun had easily cleared the horizon. 

So different now.  No Band, no missions, no celebrations.  No drinking, no ribald fireside storytelling, no friendly jibes and arm wrestling matches. 

"Feeling tired?" 

Your head snapped up to see Guts casting you a look of concern.  Even with only one eye, he could still intimidate the most seasoned of soldiers with his gaze.  With you, it had a different effect.

"No... it's nothing," you said with a shake of your head. 

On the other side of you, Casca leaned in closer.  "We can take a short rest somewhere if you need it." 

Before the Eclipse, she would have admonished you for your daydreaming and told you to buck up.  Guts would have essentially communicated the same thing, though with little to no words.  Not anymore.  Things were more... direct. 

You straightened and sped up your pace a bit.  "Really, it's fine.  I was just thinking about old times." 

Your companions' expressions shifted into sober understanding.  "Right," Casca finally said. 

No other words were spoken after that.  There was not a whole lot that any of you could openly speak about regarding 'old times.'  Putting memories into words and dipping toes into regret carried too great a risk of being dragged under and drowning in despair.  You all had your moments, and whenever they happened you simply waited until they passed, or something came along to distract you. 

A sharp pain, then, on the edge of your right shoulder.  Guts and Casca also winced, though they felt it in different spots. 

You pulled down the aged linen of your shirt to reveal your Brand of Sacrifice--fresh blood oozed from the mark, even though it was hardly a new presence on your body. 

Unholy shrieks and bellows rang out with the arrival of predatory spirits and ghouls, drawn to your Brands. 

With a weary sigh, you unsheathed your weapon.  Guts and Casca did the same.  At least now you had your distraction. 

The killing didn't bother any of you.  It's what you'd been doing all your lives, and at this point you couldn't picture a life without it.  Not to say that you didn't want peace--but in your experiences, to not fight simply meant you became the prey, the used, the abused.  This world had a disproportionate abundance of cruelty and infinitesimal mercy.  You were taught this lesson many, many times over, with the most recent review being the harshest of all. 

Adrenaline surged through your muscles.  Fire scorched your veins.  You swung your blade especially hard as you sliced apart a pack of screechy goblins.  Body parts became useless pieces of flesh and bone, and the ground became painted red. 

There were small armies that were not capable of the carnage you three were.  Fearsome monsters in your own right.  But it didn't matter how many monsters, wraiths, trolls or ogres you killed.  You would never be able to kill the ones that you despised the most.  Those ones from the Eclipse that killed the Band of the Hawk--the ones that tortured you, Casca and Guts, laughing and reveling in your misery while your leader and best friend watched and made it all happen. 

The war cries you let out as you struck were an effective way to mask your screams of anguish.

****

The rest of the night was dotted with random attacks by lesser ghouls.  It would have been hell to normal people, but it was more like Tuesday to the three of you.  Dawn was breaking just as you spotted a small cottage in a clearing of the forest you had been passing through.  No one was inside, and various belongings such as beds, furniture, and candles were still in place.  Miraculously, some dried venison and a bottle of wine were available in the cupboard, and a well just outside provided fresh water.

A lucky break, all things considered. 

Your weapons and armour were placed on the floor nearby so that everyone got a chance to rest their tired bodies.  Or at least, that would have been the smart thing to do, but it was not what happened.  You were all thinking it--it was just a matter of who made the first move. 

Today, it was Casca. 

She caressed your face slowly to get your attention, then inhaled deeply as she kissed you.  You considered yourself a grown adult with more than your fair share of world-weariness, but Casca's kisses somehow always reduced you to a sighing little girl.  The way her pillowy lips smoothed over yours made your legs want to give out and dissolve into a puddle. 

She flicked her tongue into your mouth for merely a second, then left to drag kisses down the side of your neck.  Your eyes and head rolled back and you moved a hand down her taut stomach to grab at her sex.  It was tight and hot, and she stiffened and hummed into your shoulder. 

It was a nice sound--gentle and relaxed but also fervent and wanting--a sound of mutual desire. 

A shadow loomed as you continued to kiss.  You didn't have to open your eyes to know it was Guts, quietly undoing the ties and clasps on your clothing, then letting gravity do the rest.  While he did the same to Casca, she pulled your shirt over your head and sat you down on the bed. 

You were at the perfect height for her to knead at your naked breasts, and she was at the perfect height for you to relieve her of her breeches and rub your fingers along her cunt.  She twitched ever so slightly and pinched your nipples--in both retaliation and appreciation.  Guts was now standing behind Casca, his massive frame shielding her like a wall as he divested her of the last of her clothes.  She turned back to kiss him eagerly and moaned from the touch of his hands on her chest. 

The lust building within this triumvirate was cyclical, shared, amplifying with each bit of contact.  You eased two fingers inside of Casca, which made her grind against Guts' hips, prompting him to bite her lip, leading to her squeezing harder at your breasts.  The more you gave, the more you got, which was good, because all three of you wanted everything you could get right now. 

In no time at all, Guts was made as naked as you and Casca, and lay onto his back on the mattress.  The bed frame creaked from all the weight but it only excited you further.  A shallow intake of breath and you crept over him to admire his body--hard, hulking, rough-hewn and covered in scars, much like his sword.  You and Casca pressed yourselves against him, skin to skin, then split up with Casca going down his stomach while you ascended past his ribs in an exploration with your hands and mouths. 

Casca let her hands trail as they wanted over Guts' muscled thighs, her cheek sliding over his abdomen until his cock filled her field of vision.  It always amazed you both how big he was; even when he wasn't fully hardened yet he could be considered a choking hazard.  Neither you nor Casca could take him into your mouths right away--some buildup was required first.  Wrapping her hand around, one finger following after the other just as she did with her sword, Casca rubbed the velvety skin a few times and leaned in to push Guts' cock into her mouth. 

You, meanwhile, listened with rapt attention to the strained sounds that Guts was making.  Not wanting to lose, you scratched your nails along his arms and chest, one of your fingers grazing over his nipple and letting loose a grunt that filled you with pride.  You raised your head and saw he was looking straight at you, lips parted and still wet from kissing Casca.  On impulse you mashed your lips onto his, tasting them both at the same time.  For some reason, you were then stricken with a sharp sense of poignancy and could not hide the expression that it brought out in you when you finally pulled apart. 

Guts' hand, armoured in calluses, brushed your hair away from your face.  _You all right?_   The question was conveyed clearly through his sole eye. 

You hated that question.  In all iterations, no matter who asked it, you hated it.  Normally people asked it just out of automatic courtesy, as verbal filler to void the silence.  It was no less inane between you, Casca and Guts, though you knew they had genuine concern for you and you for them. 

Of course you weren't all right.  You doubted you would ever be all right again.  Demons assaulted you during the night, humans would attempt to rob, murder and rape you during the day, you somehow got to live while the rest of the only family you'd ever known had been ripped apart and devoured as easily as if they were insects, and sex was a carnal way to lick each other's wounds that would never heal. 

You grit your teeth and kissed him roughly. 

"Make me feel good," you growled, and then you turned your back to him to join Casca in sucking Guts' cock. 

He cursed and exhaled at the increased attention he was suddenly getting, the added feminine moans and sucking sounds filling his ears.  You poked your tongue at the slit, tasted his pre-come, absently thought of the saltiness and how it resembled the taste of tears.  Maybe there was some meaning to that. 

But fuck meaning. 

You were glad for the fingers that were being shoved into your cunt from behind--they made it much easier for you to forget about other things.  You pushed your hips back against Guts' hand in gratitude, and heard a wry snort of laughter. 

You had to stop and admire Casca as she straddled Guts' hips.  She was one of, if not the most beautiful women you'd ever seen.  Her rich, dark skin was flawlessly smooth, and her body had perfectly combined wiry musculature and feminine curves.  Her eyes, almost black in colour, were suffused with desire as she held that pulsing length in her hands and sank down onto it.  Just watching that impressive girth disappear into her and the excess of her juices pooling at the base was enough to make you shudder. 

Casca took charge, riding at a slow rhythm.  Guts made a low noise and mimicked her pace with his fingers in you, earning himself a high-pitched gasp and the sight of you craning your body up to kiss Casca's breasts.  The bed and the whole cottage shook and echoed from your moans and movements. 

You yelped when Guts suddenly retracted his fingers, nearly losing your balance when he grabbed your thighs and brought you over to sit on his face so that your swollen pussy covered his mouth.  Casca's mouth curled subtly into a smirk as she saw your surprised yet aroused look.  You tried to raise yourself a little, afraid of resting your entire body weight on his face, but he held onto your hips with an iron grip. 

"You aren't enough to suffocate me," came Guts' deep voice from beneath you.  "So come here."  With that said, he pulled you down and proceeded to lick around your entrance. 

"Aah!"  You couldn't help crying out, the pressure of a thick tongue and strong lips doing wild things to your nerves.  Your toes scraped at the sheets and your upper body flailed, but your 'seat' anchored you in place. 

Something caught your trembling hands--you opened your eyes and saw Casca, sweat building at her hairline and black hair fanning her face as she moved up and down. 

"It's okay," you heard her say in a disjointed voice, panting hot breaths down your throat as she sealed off any protests you might have had with a kiss. 

Keeping your mouth on Casca's while she bounced on Guts' cock was impossible to do without some drool spilling from your lips.  She may have had his hardness inside her, but you were receiving mean stimulation to your clit that extracted equally intense moans and bodily tremors.  Arguably Guts was in the best and worst position, getting to experience such a degree of sensory overload that he had to use all of his self-control to not come right away.  A few years ago, it might not have been possible at all, but since the three of you had started traveling together, there had been plenty of opportunities to practice. 

None of you were able to speak, your mouths being occupied in one form or another, and that felt paradoxically freeing in a way.  Even if it was temporary, just surrendering to baser instincts like this and pretending that it was one of the only few things you had to worry about in life was a welcome and bittersweet reprieve.  The bliss of being dumb animals, just growling, fucking, and clawing at each other. 

After a point, Casca upped her speed, rubbing at her clit and separating from you to babble panicky noises.  Apparently the onslaught of her climax was contagious, for you soon found yourself doing the same thing, leaning back to grasp at your ankles while mewling that bestial language of pleasure along with your comrade-in-arms.  The heat under your pussy was unbearable as Guts grunted from how dangerously close Casca was bringing him to the edge, but she knew just when to stop, curling up before she broke that invisible boundary and her orgasm slammed into her. 

You were able to enjoy the view for a brief second, and then you had your turn, wailing and thrashing as Guts sucked at your clit. 

Gravity was quick to snatch your weakened form, and you flopped onto the bed.  What you thought was the room spinning was in fact Guts and Casca, apparently in far better control of their faculties and rearranging themselves so that he was kneeling between you with your ankles on his shoulders, and she fenced your face in with her legs, glistening from her release.  You somehow managed a nod, and they both descended upon you, filling both mouths completely. 

It was a veritable attack on the senses--the way Guts stretched you, his hips slapping lewdly into yours, Casca's thighs cushioning your head while she dripped honeyed desire into your mouth. 

The Eclipse was an attack as well--but of a wholly different nature.  Nothing there was given, everything was stolen and defiled, forever changed.  This was not that. 

But it was impossible to keep the two separate.  You would not have started doing this if the Band of the Hawk was still together.  Perhaps Guts and Casca would have gone on to settle into their roles as happy lovers, but you would not have been a part of that joy.  The closeness you had now, all the pleasure that you got from this union was _owed_ to that nightmarish event.  None of you did this out of true love, nor was it simply lust.  This was the result of some other grotesque, oily blend of motivations--pity, frustration, loneliness, rage, grief, and hatred directed at each other and yourselves. 

You weren't getting as much air as you should have, but you didn't care.  You used all the energy you could muster to lick up everything Casca gave while clenching down on Guts' cock to encourage him to fuck you harder.  Casca molded her hands to your breast while grinding your face, gasping as her second climax built up.  Guts growled yours and Casca's names and hammered into you like he was trying to break you.  A morbid part of you thought that that wouldn't be so bad. 

 _"Oh, god!!"_ someone shouted, but you genuinely weren't sure who it came from. 

Your toes curled and you let out a muted scream into Casca's body as you came, and you were glad that she was on top of you with her juices coating you since it made your tears impossible to see.  The slickness on your face was soon added to with Casca's second orgasm, the musky scent flooding your nose, and finally Guts himself let go, hastily pulling out just in time to shoot white, hot ropes of come onto the two of you. 

The wall and bed shook as Guts fell back.  Casca got off of you and you reflexively inhaled fast and deep, the warm morning air feeling downright cold compared to being between Casca's legs.  Sprinklings of dust could be seen flying from the ceiling through rays of sunlight that filtered in through the dirty old windows.  Your sweaty bodies slowly cooled, and your breathing returned to a less frantic pace, although you still felt your lower body vibrating.  Birds could be heard chirping outside. 

Guts picked up the sheet and wiped you and Casca clean, taking special care around your face.  He noted the moisture around your eyelids, then blotted them dry and tossed the soiled cotton to the floor.  With a soft grunt, he sat with his back against the headboard, holding out his arms for Casca to half-drag your exhausted self over to him.  You both leaned on his chest and let yourselves be wrapped in his arms as you sat in silence. 

You wished that this had happened naturally.  You wished that heartfelt affection and words of love could be included in this.  You wished that there wasn't so much sorrow, self-loathing and resentment entangling the three of you like brambles, wounding you no matter what you did. 

But still, you _were_ thankful that the relationship you had right now existed.  You weren't sure you could face this world completely alone. 

Your eyelids grew heavy.  You saw that Casca was already asleep, and when you glanced up at Guts, he rubbed your shoulder.  The chill of his metal prosthetic arm had a soothing effect on your skin.

"Get some rest," he muttered quietly.  "Don't worry.  I've got first watch."

You nodded. 

What you had may not have been love.  But it was not nothing.  And that was enough for you.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me at [Tumblr](https://quillmind.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
